Bring the Hunt Alive, and Sam
by davyjackson
Summary: What if someone saves Sam before he dies? Spoilers for AHBL1 and 2. SamOC eventually
1. The Start of Things to Come & He

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Sam "Hottie" Winchester

**The Start of Things to Come **

"Sam!" Dean's relieved voice echoed throughout the ghost town as he caught sight of his brother, who came running toward him with a similar expression on his face. Bobby was at Dean's side, sporting a sawed-off shotgun.

Suddenly, Dean's expression changed from one of relief to one of complete and total horror. "Sam, look out!" he yelled.

From behind Sam, the soldier Jake reared up and, taking the knife from the ground, lodged it firmly into Sam's back, all the way through his spinal cord. Sam gasped at the sharp hot pain spreading and dropped to his knees as Jake ran, away from the Winchesters and Bobby.

"NO!!!" Dean cried, catching his brother just he began to fall forward. "Sammy! Let me look at you!" Bobby ran off after Jake, but Dean's full attention was on his brother. He watched as his younger brother's eyes flickered shut, and he shook him. "Sam, stay awake! Sam, hang on, you hear me?!" Sam's eyes closed again and his head lolled onto his brother's shoulder. Dean looked down at his brother's back and felt the blood seeping out, his life seeping out.

"Sam!!!" Dean shook his brother again, panic and sorrow rising. He couldn't lose his brother; he'd just found his stupid ass again. " SAM!!!" His helplessness deepened his pain.

* * *

Here endth the catch-up...

* * *

**He's Still Alive! **

Suddenly, Dean heard footsteps. In his grief, he ignored them and assumed they were Bobby's, until he actually listened. _Running pace,_ his brain automatically registered, _lighter than Bobby._ He looked up, his face streaked with tears and grime from the past few days and saw a girl, a young woman covered in mud, her features obscured, running toward him at full tilt. He didn't even bother to pick up his weapon, he no longer cared.

However, the girl didn't attack him; she didn't have a weapon as far as he could tell. She dropped to her knees on the other side of Sam and put a hand on his blood-soaked back. She paused and stared off into space, before tugging on his jacket. Dean was brought out of his stupor by the sudden jerk and tugged back, grief and pain evident on his face.

"No!" he growled, without his normal fire. Dean held onto Sam with a death-grip.

The girl wasn't stopping. She tugged harder. "He's still alive! I can save him!" The pronouncement was uttered with determination, absolute belief, and slight worry. The sheer convincing tone and the certainty echoing in her words shocked Dean into releasing Sam, who fell backwards into the girl's waiting arms. She wrapped her arms around Sam's larger inert form and closed her eyes.

Dean wiped at his tears and sniffled, before common sense (or supernatural sense) kicked in. He laid his hand on Sam's neck, flinching as he felt the cold skin beneath his hand. Sam's vein pulsed, once. He _was_ alive, but for how long was another story.

The girl had Sam in a tight embrace, with her eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Dean watched, helpless to anything but trust the strange girl hugging his brother. He was already feeling grief and pain and anger at his brother's death; he'd seen the wound, and knew it was fatal. He'd never admit it aloud, but Sam was going to die. _Very soon._

* * *

More is to come. Patience, grasshopper. 


	2. Saved & Motels and Hot Showers

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Sam "Hottie" Winchester

**Saved  
**

Dean stared at his brother's graying face, draining of blood, when suddenly Sam's eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply before coughing violently. He (Sam) tried to sit up, but collapsed against the girl, who caught him as if she was expecting such.

"Easy, easy," she uttered quickly, in soothing tones. "Wait."

Dean stared in disbelief as Sam looked back, alert and _alive,_ fear and concern on his face. "Sammy?" his voice quavered out.

Sam's concern upped itself. Dean had twin streaks of salty tears on his face; Dean never cried. "Dean?"

Dean flicked his gaze from his brother, to the girl holding him upright. "How did you-?" He abruptly cut himself off as the girl's eyes rolled back into her head and she fell backwards to land unconscious with a _plop_ in the mud. Sam, surprised that his 'wall' had disappeared, began to fall on top of her. Dean caught his brother and steadied him, his thoughts running rampant in his head.

More footsteps interrupted his scattered thoughts as Bobby came running back, and skidded to a halt. He had fully, and sadly, expected to find Dean still sitting, alone, with Sam's lifeless body, instead of three _live_ bodies. His surprise was evident.

"What the hell happened?" Bobby voiced the question, but Dean had a feeling that all three of them were asking that question mentally.

Dean stared at his brother, before scooting to his side and lifted his bloody jacket and shirt. The center of Sam's back had blood dripping down it, but it was quickly congealing. Dean wiped at it and revealed smooth, unmarred skin. He glanced back down at the ground, at the unconscious girl in the mud. "She saved his life," he said incredulously.

* * *

**Motels and Hot Showers **

It was a task, fitting three grown men and an unconscious girl into an Impala, but the Winchesters and Bobby managed. Bobby debated whether taking the girl with was such a bright idea, but was quickly overturned by Sam's argument and Dean's agreement with said argument. "She saved my life."

Thus they, after reclaiming Bobby's truck and watching him drive home, drove to a motel and purchased a room for the night. The girl was laid out on one of the beds and Sam, woozy from lack of blood, crashed on the other, after receiving a one-over from his brother (Dean was still in disbelief on Sam's state of being alive) and an argument concerning sleep (Dean won). Dean sat down at the rickety table with a gun and waited.

* * *

The sun shone in through the window and on to Dean's face. He twitched and became instantly alert. Quickly, he took in the room, noting that the girl, ensconced in mud as she was, hadn't moved. The bed that had previously had had Sam was now empty, though. The sounds of the shower stopping calmed him. Dean waited and a minute or so later, Sam emerged in fresh clothes and a healthy pink glow from the warmth of the shower, further confirming his status as still alive. He had a towel around his head and was rubbing his hair, helping the drying process.

Dean looked at his brother with a look of relief, which he quickly hid with his trademark smirk as Sam paused and looked up. "I hope you didn't take all the hot water, punk."

Sam smiled, a genuine smile. He knew his brother cared, but hid it with his gruff, sarcastic exterior. Glancing over at his savior, Sam saw that the mud-encrusted girl's fingers were moving. "Dean." He called his brother's attention to the movement and went to crouch by the bed, heedless of the possible stranger danger.


	3. Who Are You? & Cally

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Sam "Hottie" Winchester

**Who Are You?  
**

Dean sighed; _this is about to get more interesting,_ flickered through his head, before following his brother, keeping a clear line of sight on the girl. Her fingers twitched again, and her eyes opened slowly, revealing hazel-green irises. She registered the change in scenery and started to panic. Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and put out a hand. "Hey, there."

She started, and then recognized him. "You're alright?" At his nod she gave a sigh of relief. "You're sure?" She lifted her hand and placed it on his chest.

Sam was startled; the warmth of her hand was far from unpleasant. On the contrary, it felt reassuring, calming. He shook himself out of his thoughts and nodded again. "Yes, thank you." He paused, unsure of how to continue. She held his gaze magnetically, as she roamed the length and breath of his face with her eyes, checking for herself. Her eyes traveled down his chest, to her hand, still resting there. She stared at it, covered with mud and god-knows-what, before dragging her gaze back to his. Sam was content to just stare; there was something hypnotizing about the different colors in her eyes.

The staring contest was broken by a cough in the background. Dean had watched the interaction of the two and decided to speed the conversation past the googly eyes and so forth. The girl's head jerked around and, for the first time since waking, saw him. She squeaked fearfully and backed away from him, involuntarily, toward Sam. He, in turn, "oofed" and automatically wrapped his arms around her as the impact caught them both off balance and knocked them off the bed. She and Sam landed on the floor, Sam bearing the brunt of the fall.

Though Sam liked the feel of her in his arms far too much for his own good, he released her as she started squirming. She popped her head up, still lying mostly on Sam, and stared up at Dean on the other side of the bed. "Who are you?" she asked nervously. Dean watched as she waited for his answer, a deer on the verge of bolting.

* * *

**Cally**

Dean pointed at the dolt on the floor under the girl. "I'm his brother; who the hell are _you?"_ The time for pleasantries, in his opinion, was far over, and the time for answers was _now._ The girl flicked from him to his brother, and crawled off Sam to lean against the other bed. "My name is Cally." She shrank into herself, hunching over.

Dean shook his head, names meant next to nothing in this business. "What were you doing there? In the ghost town?" He growled and his face hardened as something occurred to him. "Are you one of the psychic freaks?" Below the girl, his brother visibly flinched, but he kept his game face on. "Did the yellow-eyed demon bring you there?"

The girl, Cally, shrank further, obviously frightened of him, but shook her head furiously. "I'm not psychic." She paused. "I don't think." Cally looked at Sam, plaintively. "I was sent there, to find someone." She wanted, needed them to believe her, to believe the truth. "I was sent to find a hunter. Well, two hunters."

"Who sent you? And if you're not one of them, how in the hell did you do that parlor trick to Sam?" Dean was not about to tell Cally, if that was really her name, that Sam and he were, in fact, hunters.

"A woman named Missouri sent me." Sam gasped and sat up abruptly. Cally glanced at him. "What? Wait, your name is Sam?" Sam nodded. "As in Sam Winchester?" Sam nodded again and she barked out a loud and abrupt laugh. "HAH! Oh, my god!" She reached out, grabbed Sam by either side of his face and kissed him full on the lips.

* * *

I don't like to portray women as meek and fearful of men, but I think at this time, Dean would have been radiating so much worry about his brother that it would transform into pure anger that would make anyone leery of him. Reviews, plz.


	4. Human, Like You & Holy Water

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Sam "Hottie" Winchester

**Human, Like You **

Cally suddenly released Sam and turned bright red. "Oh, god. Sorry!" Sam, on the other hand, looked a bit dazed. He shook himself mentally, _focus, Sam,_ and watched as the girl pressed herself further against the bed in her embarrassment.

"Sorry. It's just; you're who I'm looking for. Sam, and," she glanced up at the still-livid but now slightly amused, sibling, "I'm assuming, Dean, Winchester. I've been looking for you guys for forever." At Dean's look, she added, "okay, well not forever. But it took a darn long time to get here. Well, there."

Dean loosened his grip on the gun he had in his hand, slightly, but not much. "So if you're not one of the psychics, then what are you?"

Cally warily stood up and Sam followed suit. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, displacing the mud caked there. "I'm not a demon, if that's what you're asking. I am human, like you. I'm just… different."

Dean cocked an eyebrow, his trademark flyboy attitude making a comeback. "Listen, sweetheart," he drawled, with a grin on his face, "don't feel insulted if I don't believe you." _Because I don't believe you._

He pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on the table. Cally glanced at the liquid-filled clear bottle, and noted the cross etched on the surface. She snorted. "Lemme guess. You don't believe me and you're going to try to trick me into drinking holy water to determine the validity of my previous statement."

* * *

**Holy Water  
**

Dean smirked. This spit-fire of a girl had identified the water and come to the correct conclusion within seconds. She was smart, he'd give her that.

Cally realized that Dean was staring at her. She sighed and held out her hand. "Look, since we're obviously not going to accomplish anything until you cease questioning the validity of my humanity, hand me the frickin' holy water so that I can get that over with and take a shower!" She snapped her fingers impatiently.

Dean scooped the bottle off the table and poured some into a cup from the table. He stalked over to the girl, trying to be threatening and still have the "sexy" vibe that women responded to. He was hoping to disarm her, get her to tell them more, and if more came of it later… He stopped and loomed over her before offering her the cup.

Cally gulped; there was something _off_ about how the older Winchester was acting. She backed up and bumped into Sam. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and took the glass from his brother. "It's okay. We won't hurt you. Here," he handed her the cup. She took it and looked at him, trusting him more than his brother, and downed the entire contents of the cup in one gulp.


	5. Itchy Gunk & The Roadhouse

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Sam "Hottie" Winchester

**Itchy Gunk **

The brothers waited tensely as the seconds passed. Cally stood there quietly humming to herself, waiting. When nothing happened, Sam let out a sigh of relief and glanced at his brother. "See?" Dean gave his brother a look but said nothing. He was a bit miffed that the girl responded to his brother but shied away from him like he was the devil himself.

Cally put a hand on her hip and copied Sam's tone. "See? Now, can I get some clean clothes and a shower or would that be asking for too much? I think I've been standing around in this muck for long enough." She needed to regroup mentally, and the mud and gunk was starting to make her skin itchy. Dean was making her nervous, not a bad vibe, just dangerous, and Sam, well, Sam's presence alone was hard to ignore.

Dean saw another entrance. He motioned to the bags that he and his brother had brought in earlier. "You're more than welcome to borrow some of my clothes," he leered.

Cally grimaced. "Ugh. No thanks. If this is the correct motel, my clothes are outside." She carefully stepped around Dean and opened the motel door, exited the room and closed the door. She went over to her transportation, and removed several bags from it. Before she opened the door to enter again, she took a moment to compose herself. Being around Dean was unnerving, like a combination of flirty slime and pointy fuzz. Sam was less obvious, a bit shy; but sweet and kind, with a hint of danger mixed in, but she felt drawn to him. She exhaled sharply before entering the room again.

Dean and Sam were standing in the same spots as when she'd left, only now, they both had wrinkled, confused expressions. If not for the serious circumstances in which they'd met, Cally would have laughed at the brothers' twin looks.

Sam spoke first. "How did you know which motel we were going to use?"

Cally shrugged. "I didn't. Missouri gave me specific instructions on how to get here and what to do. She had a vision of what was going to happen to you about two or three weeks ago. We tried getting a hold of you, and when that didn't work, we tried someplace called the Roadhouse. That woman, Ellen didn't know where you'd gone…" She trailed off at Dean's sudden wince. "What?" Sam swiveled his gaze to his brother.

"Dean?"

Sam hadn't seen his brother express such visible pain since, well, since he'd gotten stabbed. Something was _very_ wrong. He repeated himself. "Dean?"

Dean turned away. "The Roadhouse is gone."

* * *

**The Roadhouse **

Dean stood as if addressing the wall, instead of the other occupants of the room. "Ash is dead; Ellen is too probably." His voice cracked. "Who knows how many other hunters were in there?"

Cally glanced between Sam and Dean; obviously this Roadhouse had a special significance to the both of them. Sam looked like a twig could knock him over and Dean was still staring at the wall. She felt she was intruding on a private moment. So, she walked over to Sam, and gently touched his arm. He looked down at her, dazed, and she moved him slowly to one of the beds and sat him down. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly, before standing up.

Glancing back at Sam once, Cally went to Dean and put a hand on his upper back in a comforting motion. He stiffened and she moved the hand to his shoulder before removing it completely. She picked up her bags, certain there was nothing more she could do for either Winchester that didn't involve sex, beer, or a good pistol shooting. She moved into the bathroom, locked the door and leaned against it, letting out a deep breath.


	6. Trust & Star Trek Flyboys

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Sam "Hottie" Winchester

**Trust**

Sam had finally gotten over the shock of the demise of the Roadhouse. It had become a safe haven, a home, even with the possession he'd undergone. Ellen, Ash… To have it be… gone—Well, there was nothing he could do now. He had bigger issues to deal with, like the Yellow-Eyed demon and the cost of escaping him. After the shock had subsided, he filled Dean in on what the demon had told him, and the others. He told Dean how there was only supposed to be one left, and since Cally had saved him, the Yellow-Eyed demon (A.N. – YED) might want revenge for her thwarting of Sam's death.

"The demon said that only one would be allowed to leave alive, Dean. As far as I know, Jake is still alive." Sam sat on the bed, arguing with his brother. He wanted the girl to come with; he didn't know why, but something pulled him to her. However, Dean would never go for it unless there was a valid "hunter" reason.

Dean sighed; they were arguing in circles. "Yes, and as far as Jake or Yellow-Eyes knows, you're dead. Why prove them wrong?"

"Because, there are things that need to be done. There is a war coming, Dean. And she could help. And it won't help to bury our heads in the sand."

Dean huffed. "I don't trust her. Is she who she says she is?" He paused. "For that matter, we don't even know who she is really."

Sam rolled his eyes; he was getting really fed up with his brother. It made no difference, he told himself, that Cally's simple act of comfort for him and his brother had shaken him. They were in the middle of accusing her of being a demon and yet she felt no compunction about feeling empathy for their loss. _No difference whatsoever. _Before he could analyze it further, he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number. "If Missouri confirms Cally's story," he asked as the phone rang, "will you get off her back and let her come with?"

Dean grunted noncommittally as the phone picked up and Missouri's voice belted out a loud and warm "Hello, Sam!" without preamble or caller ID.

* * *

**Star Trek Flyboys**

After a long, hot shower and some severe soap usage, Cally felt human again. No pun intended. She turned the water off and squeezed the excess water out of her hair. Through the door she could hear the brothers' voices. The walls garbled the conversation but she closed her eyes and concentrated.

Dean: "-if she is who she says she is. What does Missouri say?"

Sam: (quietly) "Yeah. Uh-huh. Really?" Cally assumed he was on the phone with Missouri, confirming her identity further. (Louder) "No, Missouri says that she is who she says she is. She sent her. Dean, can we please stop with the suspicions and accusations? Cally saved my life, and she didn't have to. I am grateful."

Dean: (sarcastically) "Oh, please."

Sam: "What?"

Dean: "You like her. Dude, it's so obvious."

Sam: "God, grow up. You're just cranky because, unlike the rest of the female population, this girl hasn't fallen into bed with you at the drop of a hat." (Quietly) "No, Dean was just paranoid and wanted to make absolutely sure, Missouri. Thanks."

Cally stopped paying attention to their conversation and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt from her bags. It was true, what Sam had said. Missouri had told her what she (Missouri) knew that Cally would need to know about the Winchesters. Dean was what Cally defined as a 'flyboy;' a 'Captain Kirk;' someone who had a girl in every port and exuded confidence and sexual… well, whatever sexuality exuded itself as. Unlike Captain Kirk, and the other Captains of Enterprise-class ships (Cally favored herself as a Star Trek geek), Dean used it to his advantage, getting women to divulge information that they normally wouldn't tell, giving him leeway on potentially criminal acts (grave robbing and the like), and sometimes just to sleep with him.

However, she felt no attraction to him, just as Missouri had predicted. She would have found it humorous that Dean was miffed about her lack of swooning or attraction to her, except that, in fact, if anything, she felt frightened, or at least leery, of him, which was silly, but there you go. _Anyway,_ she thought to herself, _I have a job to do. Keeping the Winchesters alive does not involve becoming attracted to them._

Cally sighed and exited the bathroom.


	7. Pacing Safely & Yowza!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Sam "Hottie" Winchester

**Pacing Safely **

Sam thought about what Missouri had told him, about the stranger named Cally who had saved his life. As soon as Missouri had picked up, she told him that she was sorry about the Roadhouse, but "its demise would help in times to come." When pressed for more, she clammed up and changed the subject to Cally and her status as a human. She told him what Dean needed to hear, what Sam already knew. And then Missouri went cryptic.

"Be nice to this girl, Sam. She's been thrown a hard lot. Between the two of you, you're the one that's… well." Missouri cleared her throat. "Anyway, take her with, go to Bobby's house as soon as possible, and everything will turn out alright, sugar. Keep her safe. Give her my love, and tell Dean to keep his hands to himself. Bye, hon." With those few tidbits to mull over, Sam was disconnected.

Sam stood still for a moment, then started pacing, digesting. Cally was fully human, that was true. No funny demon bits, unlike him. She had come from a normal two-parent, two-kid household. Sam had been told that Cally's mother had died when she was ten, from natural causes, but Missouri refused to divulge what had happened, if anything, to the sibling and father. Cally was taken under Missouri's wing a few years ago, after an incident related to her abilities, the details of which Missouri again left out.

Dean sighed as Sam paced and mulled. "So, you're dead set on this girl coming with." It was less of a question and more of a statement. After speaking to Missouri, he finally relented. "Fine, but at the first sign of trouble, she is gone." Sam nodded, lost in his thoughts.

He was so distracted that he failed to notice when the bathroom door opened. Having reached the far end of the room, furthest from the door, he swiveled back and bumped into something. He blinked in surprise, pulled from his musings, and looked up and his jaw dropped.

* * *

**Yowza!**

Cally exited the bathroom and ran smack into a hard body. She looked up into Sam's eyes and blinked in surprise. "Oh, sor--"

Dean looked up as the bathroom door opened and Cally came out of the bathroom. His jaw just about dropped as he took in the newly showered girl. Underneath all the mud and grime from her travels was a young woman of about 22, older than he'd first guessed, with decidedly delectable curves and shiny brown hair sprinkled with dyed red streaks. Her snug jeans showed off her womanly curves and her tight t-shirt clung to her well-developed breasts. He stared, per his typical manner concerning hot girls. Without the gunk covering her, her smooth skin glowed, with her hazel-green eyes sparkling as if sharing a private joke.

Sam steadied himself as he gawked. Without the mud, Cally was downright stunning. She practically shined in the dull motel room. His throat was suddenly dry as he started down at the brunette. _My god,_ he thought, an electrical charge running down his spine, _she's beautiful. _

Cally broke off at the Winchester brothers staring at her. She glanced from Sam to Dean, Dean to Sam. She gulped, the look on their faces was familiar, but she couldn't place it. It was making her nervous, in any case. Suddenly, something occurred to her. "Have I got something on my face?" She patted her cheek, searching for an abnormality.

Both brothers blinked, the spell broken at the sound of her voice. Dean cleared his throat, and Sam shook his head. "No, uh… So, Missouri says you are who you say you are."

Cally rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm so glad we've gotten that cleared up. Did she say what we're supposed to do next? Go to Bobby?"

Dean opened his mouth and Cally cut him off. "It's on the instructions that she gave me." Her stomach growled suddenly. "That and on the way we're stopping for food." Her tone and Sam's answering stomach making noise brooked no argument; even if Dean was loathe to take orders from a girl. His grumbling as they left, from his mouth more than his stomach, showed just how much.


End file.
